The Let's Play Archive

Part 42: Episode XXIX: Losing my Religion

When last we left our hero, he was still wandering aimlessly, pocketing any shiny thing that wasn't nailed down. With that said, let's continue...

Terrifying experiences with the cold, darkness of space behind him, Chris ventures into the back room of the...er...back room.

"Good God! It's a two front assault! I need back up!"

"Nice team-up." "'s no problem."

Further in, Chris discovers another trinket which will no doubt aide in feeding his hungers.

But, taking a nod from Resident Evil 4, Chris adds in a couple of gems to hock up the sell value by a few grand. Unfortunately, it seems to have displaced a bit of the original product.

Since Capcom hates you and everything you stand for, you are given the gift of a jigsaw puzzle to open this box. Are you beside yourself in anticipation?

"No... No, man. Man... Ugh."

Twenty minutes of Topher Redfield's glazed over expression while he fumbles around with puzzle pieces on the floor.

It's actually a very easy puzzle. But, I'm sure someone will post how they lost of day of their life and gave up in frustration to this mind boggler. Much like the sliding block puzzle with Ashley from Resident Evil 4. You know, the one that was already solved.

Christ, these things are in key form now? What's next? Special Emblem edition vanity plates. Monopoly: Emblem Edition. Emblem shaped candy for Halloween?! When does the madness end?!

Not one to leave things unfinished, no matter how mundane, Officer Redfield decides to finish off the last batch of Helmet Key doors. Or rather, the last one. That plural 'doors' was sort of redundant. What were we talking about?

"Bwahaha... Easy Listenin'... I think I'm starting to get the hang of this whole spectral thing."

"There's none of that pussy hippie 'clearing your mind' garbage. No. See, what I'm working on is control. It doesn't work on people. Sure, you can jump in someone for a few seconds and make them pick their nose or punch their mom in the face or something funny like that. But, then you're spent for the hour."

"Then it occurred to me... People... People don't work with this whole possession thing. For now... See, I'm stuck in the same building as Shemp downstairs. I'm not sure why it is. Maybe it's because the bitch killed me. It doesn't matter. What I found out that the whole body taking over gig doesn't fly with people..."

"But these dopey ass monsters? You just drive in there, hop into its subconscious, then dropkick anything in the teeth that tries to resist you. Which, is about equivalent to drop kicking an eighty year old man. Which is fucking hilarious, by the way.."

"I don't need this thing anymore. Don't worry kid, it would have been exactly the same as last time, only you're in a bigger room. Though, you managed to get bitten last time too. If anyone asks about the sketchy details of how you beat this thing?"

"Oh dude. The nice ghost Jew guy left me a present. Dude, that guy's so cool. Dude. I need to buy him a beer. I wonder how much S.T.A.R.S. guys make. I should really ask for money one of these days. Then I could buy these guys beer."

Chris stumbles about aimlessly for a time. Realizing for the first time all day that he can get rid of items by tossing them out of his pants and not having to stop at random magic crates. He proceeds to junk his entire inventory, outside the Emblem Key, which he finds shiny. Also junked is his badge, wallet, bicycle lock keys, ticket stubs, $6.32 in loose change, and his boxers.

"Why's it so drafty?"

"Chris Redfield does not scream like that!"

"Get ready for the punchline, kiddo. The joke before it will be great too..."

"BwahahahahaHAHAHA!!"

"HAHAHA!!"

"Shot in the face by some homely little druggie twat because 'awww they was mean to me'."

"I kill twenty-three people, bust out of a MP truck and kill everyone, then shoot my way through every stupid big ass bug on the fucking planet. Topped off by some fucking trannie nancy boy that eats leeches or some shit. I shoot that guy so hard, using my RPG power of +53 awesomeness, that he friggin' breaks into pieces and explodes."

"I did all that, plus save your pack mule ass three different times. And what thanks do I get? A salute and a magnum round to the head. If I wanted that I would have stayed in the fucking Marines. But, that's okay. We're making things right here, Becky. I'm sure you're confused about all this. How am I back and not some stupid talking head floating thing? Don't be. Just think for a second and you'll know the answer. Gotten through to you? How about you, Dean Cain?"

"Like... Is it because you're Jewish and stuff and... Ya know the Holocaust and it's racist or some junk. I dunno." "Thanks for the input, discount rack. Insightful as always... No... The answer is simple..."

"I'm Billy..."

"FUCKING!!!"

"COEN!!!"

"Bwa..."

"Bwahahaha."

"BWAHAHAHAHA!! Oh yeah... Oh yeah, that felt great."

"Two fucking days with that whiny little bitch. Two fucking days. And they were gonna stick me with her for eternity or some shit. Bwahaha. Oh man, I hope someone recorded that then TiVoed it then sent it to her mom and then recorded that to get her reaction. Then I'd burst in the door and bang her, cuz that's just how Billy Coen rolls."

"Aww, what's the matter, Short Round? Are you gonna cry? Oh, boo hoo. All my teammates are dying and I have a stupid haircut and I'm wearing a fishing jacket and I'm not even fishing. The world is so unfair! I'm gonna go write about it in my journal and write poetry and go buy a bunch of shoes to make myself feel better. Oh boo hoo."

"You killed my best friend." "Best friend? You work at the same place, on the same unit, and you didn't even know who she was." "...I don't have a lot of friends." "Then I guess nobody is gonna miss ya much, huh? Twenty-five has such a better ring to it than twenty-four. Don't ya think, D-List?"

"You are kind of a jerk." "You are a pussy. At least commit to something, kiddo."

"You got saved by the fucking stiff in the corner. I think that's enough for me to march down to the county clerk and get an official document going "Topher Redfield: Pussy First Class". Me, I got attacked by a damned shark, fell off a couple of cliffs, and you know what Miss Deadwithherassintheair did to help me? Not a goddamn thing, cause I just coughed a few times and shrugged it off."

"Ya know what they call these things? Hunters. I know, it's a stupid name. It's because they like to take off people's heads. But, a decap insta-gib for Missy Chambers would have been too good. I think gurgling with something that isn't mouth wash was more suiting. Anyway, nice knowin' ya. Time to put that special feature to good use."

"Missed, Billy fucked Coen." "If that's the most clever thing you can come up with, why don't you just point that shotty at that big ass dome head of yours and-"

"I got shot in the face with a hollowpoint round and I'm still around to kick ass. Are you shittin' me, junior?"

"S.T.A.R.S.? The fuck kind of pussywhipped outfit is that? Couldn't cut it for a real SWAT team? Or the boy scouts? I was a goddamn Marine. I ate nails for breakfast, asked for seconds, then shat out my nail droppings on orphans, because it was goddamn hilarious. What does S.T.A.R.S. do? Save the cats from trees when there's a fire and the fire department can't be bothered?"

"Let's show ya how its done in the Marines, girl scout."

"Don't worry, I'm thinking it'll be funnier to lob your head at a homeless guy and see if he freaks out. Your mama is getting a closed casket funeral for ya, but at least it'll be a quick way to go." "Don't you talk about my mom, asshole!" "Ohh... Did I hit a nerve. Are you gonna c-"